Hello! Can you say, “It’s hot!”, darned tootin! It was so hot
that Boston Red Sox fans left after the third inning of a game
they were winning recently because they say they couldn’t
breath. That’s hot!
It was so hot in Chicago the transit buses and cop cars were
all overheating. It was so hot in the nation’s capitol that
police let kids swim in the reflecting pool. Everywhere you look
this summer it has been a real scorcher. Even in Florida it’s
hotter than normal. Well, dah, it IS summer after all.
But where do you think it feels the hottest?
It’s the old argument about heat and humidity. Florida is the
hottest because the sun never goes down and Mr. Sunshine just
loves turning our skin into leather. But it’s hotter in St.
Louis because the humidity is the key. And New York City, well,
it claims to be number one in everything so, of course, the heat
is the worst in the now baked Big Apple
Baloney. Arizona. Now that’s hot! A couple of days ago it was
113 degrees. Not to worry because it’s dry heat and anyone can
live with dry heat. Sure you can, as long as you don’t mind
having your skin looking like a miniature Grand Canyon.
When I was a kid in Iowa we used to bale hay in August. If
you complained about the heat on the wagon Grandpa would send
you up to the barn to stack the bales. It was a nice and toasty
115 degrees up there, according to the old Burma Shave
thermometer on the wall. Now that was hot!
No doubt there are serious concerns when the heat index hits
the 105-degree and climbing range. Many folks up north don’t
have air conditioners and haven’t learned the lesson of drinking
plenty of fluids. Come to think of it, the real problem is that
our human bodies don’t do so well having to adjust to frigid
winter temperatures for several months and then readjusting to
equator-like conditions.
Yes, there is such a thing as your blood thinning out after
you’ve lived in a subtropical climate for some time. Test my
hypothesis. How many cases of heat stroke are reported in Mexico
City versus New York City?
According to the World Health Organization, more people die
from heat-related illnesses in North America than in Mexico.
Check it for yourself! Mexicans take their infamous naps in the
middle of the day because they know it helps them cope better
with the heat. They do the same thing in sub-Saharan Africa. I
spent time as a missionary in East Africa and never saw a single
person suffering from heat exhaustion.
If you use sweating as an indicator of heat than I’m in
trouble. I sweat all the time… in the car, on my bike, on the
news set. It is just pathetic! I carry two bath towels in my car
and a spare shirt and still I look like I just got done running
a marathon.
Let’s face it. What’s hot and what’s not is all relative. The
gals I work with think it’s always too cold in our
air-conditioned building so they run around wrapped in blankets.
I’m begging to turn down the thermostat and will probably end up
in jail for breaking into those little wire cages that protect
the thermostats from meddlers like me.
And I refuse to be drawn into the global warming debate!
Still, the true measure of whether it’s hot outside comes
down to an old weather forecaster’s trick. Take one egg, crack
on top of a car hood sitting in the afternoon sun and watch it
fry. I’ve actually done this and it’s amazing. Now, when you can
take an egg and crack it and place it on your forehead and it
fries… thaaaaaaat’s HOT!
